23. Poppy
Poppy
F or a fleeting moment in July, there’s a window where both fresh strawberries and blueberries are in season to be picked.
In Foxport, the place to go do this is Walker Farms. With classic red barns, a year-round market, and various growing fields that stretch on for acres and acres, it is a produce filled paradise.
As a frequent visitor, I have established a close relationship with the Walker family over the years.
And they’ve allowed me free reign to pick all the provisions I’d like—my only cost being free baked goods for their family whenever they come by the bakehouse.
It’s a steal, and a much needed break for my budget.
I typically come out here alone to wander the fields at my leisure. But after the run in at Pearl Beach, it turns out that my friends are not letting me evade them any longer. As I park, I find all three of them already here and waiting.
“Oh hey,” I greet them casually, climbing out of my Bronco.
Wren pushes her sunglasses up onto her dark hair and shoots me a look that confirms our topic of conversation today. “ Finally ,” she huffs. “We were betting on if you’d show or not.”
They watched Hayden kiss me on that beach… kind of. It was just a simple forehead kiss. Even if there was nothing simple about the way it made me feel.
“You’ve been avoiding us,” Stevie accuses in the most innocent way possible.
It’s not that I want to avoid them, it’s that I want to avoid the fact that I had wanted him to aim lower, specifically for my lips. And if I admit that to them, it makes the urge something tangible.
“I haven’t been avoiding you, I’m just busy,” I counter halfheartedly. When none of them buy my excuse, I give in. “Fine, but I’m putting you to work if you want to talk.”
“Deal.”
I reach into the open trunk and pass each of them a basket. Then I lead the way out to the strawberry fields. I love the strawberry fields, with their neat rows of green and their lush red berries just waiting to be turned into my strawberry and cream filled croissants.
Which I can now make thanks to Hayden.
I’d been turning both conversations over in my head. The first on the beach, and the follow up yesterday when he implored me to let him help.
“Okay, it’s time to spill. What did we interrupt the other night?” Ivy gets straight to the point.
“We… talked.”
“That didn’t look like talking,” Wren points out.
Stevie hushes her before turning to me. “Talked about what?”
“Hayden bought me a new appliance for the bakery. He replaced my sad old mixer with a five-figure version.” I reach for a strawberry, avoiding the eager gazes I just know are on their faces.
“Well, that was generous of him. But honestly not surprising,” Stevie mulls. “I think he would have dropped six figures on your bakery if you let him.”
“What makes you so sure?”
“The fact that he is crazy about you.”
“There’s definitely something there,” Ivy agrees.
“Well, we fought about the mixer and then—it turned into something else we were fighting about. I think I’ve been misjudging him.”
I make the mistake of looking up in that moment. They are all staring back at me in mock surprise.
“What makes you say that?” Wren asks.
“Remember the field trip we took where he made fun of me for being poor? He says that’s not what he was doing.”
“None of us actually witnessed it. But, honey, is it possible you were feeling heated, and the details came out… a certain way when you told us about it?” Ivy suggests cautiously.
I throw back my head in laughter. “Are you suggesting I overreacted and overexaggerated? Yes, that’s a safe bet. I appreciate how you put it though.”
“So, what did he say happened then?”
Ducking once again, I pretend to focus on a ripe strawberry. I’m having a hard time admitting the next part because I know it’s going to make me smile and blush. “Um, something about how he was just trying to get my attention.”
“ Poppy .” Stevie grabs my arm. “Did Hayden admit to liking you? Is that why you were about to do it on the beach?”
“Now who’s exaggerating,” I mutter.
“Oh, come on, we all saw how you were wrapped up together,” Wren points out.
“What have you been feeling about all of this?” Ivy asks, plucking a berry and depositing it in her basket.
“Confused, mostly. I spent years thinking he was this stuck-up, better-than-everyone-because-I-have-money type of guy. Thinking he was mocking me as I struggle to make my living. But he was honestly horrified by how I remembered that first time we spoke. And then what Stevie’s told me about why he was in town after his parents disappeared…
I am just seeing things differently. And it is terribly confusing. ”
“That would be. You’re having to rethink years of interactions now,” Ivy says softly.
“On top of that,” I start to add, waving a strawberry in the air as the words continue to pour out of me. “He wants to do more. Help more. And that’s making me want to run away and also run towards him at the same time.”
“Why do you want to run from that?” Stevie asks, adding another strawberry to her own basket. I appreciate that they are actively picking the berries instead of watching me bare my soul. It makes this easier.
“I don’t feel like I can accept his help, it’s like admitting I failed. And what if I rely on him and he lets me down?”
“Accepting help doesn’t mean accepting failure. Just the opposite, it means that you’re continuing to fight for your dreams,” Ivy assures me.
“Is there something Hayden did to make you think you can’t rely on him?”
“Once I start unravelling everything I’m overthinking? No. He hasn’t given me a reason to doubt him,” I answer.
“You let us be here for you. Do you think trusting him is any different?”
My basket now full, I rise and shield my eyes from the sun as I watch them follow suit. We take our time, walking at a significantly slower pace back to drop the strawberries off. They don’t push the subject, just walk beside me.
“That’s different. It’s you . Besides, you all are here to talk things through with me.
Support and encourage me. You aren’t offering money or bailing me out.
Plus… I’m also starting to feel things for him which is just complicating his offer,” I admit.
“I’m not the type of person that jumps in with both feet?—”
“We know.”
I smile at that before continuing. “I plan, and examine, and process. There’s no binder I can make that tells me how to keep my heart safe while testing things out with him.”
Wren loops her arm through mine and nods. “I get it. But even if you don’t have a binder, you have your intuition. Trust yourself to accept things as they feel right, moving at a pace you set. That’s your plan.”
“And if you need us, we’re here,” Ivy reminds me.
We deposit the strawberries in the larger crate waiting in the back of my Bronco and take our empty baskets down to the next field for blueberries.
We harvest and talk about nothing of any importance.
Like when Stevie brings up the time that Wren sprinted through this field because a bee chased her for her cherry perfume.
And the reminder Stevie gives to go into the market after this and get a few blocks of the blueberry cheddar cheese because it’s a favorite amongst Ivy’s family.
It’s exactly what I need.
As I work, I let their advice turn over in my brain. Trust when it feels right. Set my own pace. The idea sounds simple enough, and I can’t deny how I’ve been aching to feel more of Hayden. To let him closer.
“What do I tell him about helping me with bakery things?” I turn from the wild bush I’m picking and look between them. They don’t seem phased by the way I pivot the conversation back around because they know me. They know I’ve been thinking about it this whole time.
“You still have four episodes left for the show, right?” Stevie asks, looking up as well to see me nod in confirmation. “Then just see what comes up as you are in the kitchen together. If there’s anything you’d want.”
The last time I had Hayden in my kitchen, I wanted things that had nothing to do with baking. I wanted him. And based on how badly I feel it, I suspect that desire isn’t going away anytime soon.